Fire and Ice
by youfindyourselfinsomeoneelse
Summary: Takes place after Season II, Episode VIII. What I would have liked to have happened after Elena breaks Stefan's heart, for the second time, why not make it a third? - EG/DS - ***SMUT WARNING***


**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Vampire Diaries or any related material. I wish I did, I mean, come on, Damon is freaking HOT.

**Credits: **I'd like to thank my amazing sister for reading this through for me, and helping me out with improving it. She's my unofficial Beta, if you like.

**Warnings/Notices: **This story is smut-centric, so if you can't deal with hardcore smut action, don't read it, I won't bother replying if you review saying there was too much smut for your liking, you were warned, if you don't like it, don't bother reading. Also, this takes place right after Season II, Episode VIII, if you don't catch the references.

**Chapter One**

_Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world__  
__Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love__  
__Like I'm the only one who knows your heart__  
__Only girl in the world...__  
__Like I'm the only one that's in command__  
__Cuz I'm the only one who understands how to make you feel like a man__  
__Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world__  
__Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love__  
__Like I'm the only one who knows your heart__  
__Only one..._

_Only Girl in the World – Rihanna_

Elena knew what she was doing was probably the wrong thing to do, but she did it anyway. She knew that she had broken Stefan's heart, twice over now, and as much as she loved him, she didn't want to be with him right now. She wanted something that wasn't so serious and full of danger all the time. She wanted to have some fun, but she wanted to know she was safe too.

This probably wasn't right, she knew it wasn't right. If Stefan found out then he'd probably never forgive her, she didn't even know if it would make her feel any better, but all she felt was this unfathomable need to do the unthinkable, the exact thing she had been denying herself for so long.

She stood next to the door that could very well hold the key to her future, it was ironic really, how she thought of it like that, when the key remained in the lock, not locked, but present. She shifted her weight to the other foot, hoping that the floorboards wouldn't creak. He would know she was here, but she hoped he would give her time to think things over before he made that fact known.

The Salvatore boarding house was dark, only the lamps on the walls gave light, and even that was dim, but that was okay, she liked the dark. She felt safe here; she always had, until Katherine had started showing up. That didn't matter anymore, though, she was gone, Stefan had told her so. She didn't have a reason to feel like she could be killed at any moment.

From what she could tell, Stefan wasn't home. She could figure why easily enough, but she was a little grateful, she didn't want him there right now, not interrupting her, and her ideas of what she wanted from the evening.

She took a deep breath and stepped towards the door she had been facing for the past few minutes, she knocked tentatively, realising that she couldn't go back now. Whatever happened, she had brought on herself, but she was okay with that. He wouldn't hurt her.

It seemed like an eternity before the door opened, waiting was torture. It made her want to turn and run away, deny herself yet again, just to make things easier. This wouldn't help things, but it would help her.

Damon opened the door, and proceeded to lean casually against the door frame. Elena swore that he knew why she was there, but she also knew that he'd make her work for it, even if he wanted it too.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, his voice the same as it always was, dark and sexy, and a little dangerous. Elena had sworn herself away from danger, but this wasn't real danger, not really.

She didn't want to jump into it, they had flirted in the past, almost got to the point where they would have taken it further, but it had never happened, and now she was sure it would, and she didn't want to ruin it.

"Can I come in?" she asked, returning his question with one of her own. She'd feel better if their conversation was held somewhere that Stefan couldn't easily walk in on, if he was to return.

Damon tilted his head, he thought he could tell why she was there, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. He narrowed his eyes, trying to work her out, "What do you want, Elena?" he murmured. He wanted her, of course he did, but he also didn't want to be staked by his brother, should he find out.

"You know what I want, Damon," Elena knew what she wanted, she knew that Damon knew what she wanted, it was just whether he was going to give it to her or not. It would be humiliating if he didn't, but she didn't think he could resist for long.

Damon bowed his head a little and rubbed his temples, she didn't know how much he wanted to pull her into his room and have his way with her, but he couldn't, Stefan was in the way, as always. "Elena, don't do this, Stefan..." he tried to reason with her. She should have thought about it.

"It's her choice, Damon, I won't hurt you if it's what she wants," said another voice, a quiet brooding voice that could only come from one person.

"Stefan-" Elena started, only to realise that she didn't know what to say to him. He had just given them permission, providing it was what Elena wanted.

She saw Stefan shake his head slowly in the dim light cast from the oil lamps. "Don't, Elena, I'm not going to punish you, I want you to be happy."

Elena swallowed nervously and nodded, holding his gaze for seconds, before averting her eyes, avoiding both of them.

"Are you sure?" she heard Damon ask, and she almost didn't want to hear the answer. She didn't have to, no more words were said, and she could almost feel Stefan nod and slope away into the darkness. She hoped he would leave, she didn't want him to hear, and he would hear, he was a vampire, after all.

She looked up at Damon, and he quirked an eyebrow before stepping aside to let her in. She had never been in Damon's room before, and she had to admit that she was curious.

She paused just ahead of the doorway as he shut the door behind her, and then she saw him walk past. Typical Damon, she knew he was interested, but he would make her wait.

Elena watched as he poured himself a drink, "I'll have one of those," she said.

Damon paused for a millisecond, but proceeded to pour her a drink. The way she said that sounded exactly like Katherine, and it stopped him for a moment. The thought of her trapped in the tomb, most likely still scratching at the stone of the door, screaming for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to Elena and handing her the tumbler.

Elena took the glass and took a sip, she grimaced and noticed Damon's smirk become more pronounced. She didn't want him to think she was a lightweight, or scared, or innocent, and so she threw the drink back and put her tumbler on the side, walking to him and taking his glass out of his hand, swallowing that too.

He smiled and shook his head. "And here was me thinking you'd barely touch your drink, that there would be something you'd want to touch more," he wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. That sexy, effortless smile.

"You know what I'm here for, Damon," she said, stepping forward so that they stood less than a foot away from each other.

"Why?" he asked, Damon knew it was probably a lot to ask of her, but he needed to know why she had suddenly changed her mind. After all those months of resisting.

Elena was beginning to wish she had had a drink before she came here, at least then she would have liquid courage on her side. What would she have said if she was drunk?

"Because," she paused for dramatic effect, fingering the neck of his shirt, "You're hot, and you won't treat me like I could break at any second."

That made her sound a little vulnerable, she realised after she had said it, but she kept eye contact.

Damon didn't know what was more attractive about her, her fire and bravery, or her vulnerable side. The side that she rarely showed to anyone. He suspected that even Stefan didn't see it that often. He didn't know quite what to say to that. It was what he chose to acknowledge, the bold statement describing his physical appearance, or the soft assumption that she could hate him for picking up on if he said the wrong thing.

He hummed lowly, with a smirk on his face; he was going to carefully not reply the second part of her statement. He didn't want to start world war three. "Just hot?" he was playing with her, "I'm sure you can do better than that."

Elena took a breath in, just the way he looked at her made her want him more than she already did. "Hot or dangerously sexy, what's the difference?" she mused, stepping closer. She made it clear that she wanted him; sooner rather than later.

To her annoyance, he turned and walked away from her, seemingly enjoying the view from the window. Elena rolled her eyes and followed him; before she got close enough to touch him he turned to face her.

"Well, hot would suggest a passing fancy, a view based primarily on my appearance. Dangerously sexy however, would show a deeper view of how you see me. You think I'm dangerous, which means you know me quite well, and sexy, well," he paused and gave me that classic lop sided smile, "Sexy shows that you want me."

He was every part the cocky, arrogant Damon she knew... and lusted after?

Elena stepped closer to him, and within a second, she was pressed against the wall, one of Damon's arms on either side of her, his lips an inch from hers. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned forward instinctively. Her lips brushed his, and words formed on Damon's lips. "Patience is a virtue, Elena."

Then he was gone, and she let out an audible sigh. Following him again, this time to where he stood near the bed, she hovered behind him for a minute, before tentatively raising her hands to touch his back, and in a second, he was facing her again, her wrists encased in his hands.

They stood for a moment, their gazes locked, before she couldn't take waiting anymore, and he wouldn't make her wait. Damon crashed his mouth to hers, his hands dropping from her wrists and encircling her waist, pulling her close to him, every part of their bodies connected from the waist down.

The kiss didn't start off slow, it wasn't romantic, it was passion, pure, unadulterated passion, and it was exactly what Elena needed. Damon deepened the kiss, demanding entrance to her mouth with his tongue. Elena happily obliged; her hands on his chest, moving around his neck, tugging on his hair to pull him closer.

Damon had wanted this for so long, but he had never known how it would make him feel. He felt powerful, a kind of electric power that made him feel like he could do anything. He could take over the world, as long as she was there. He would've mentally scolded himself, but the sensation was so good, she was so good; he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

His hands seemed to have minds of their own, they moved down, cupping her butt, pulling her closer to him still, and he stepped back, pulling her with him. They tumbled to the bed, their kiss not breaking once.

Elena pressed herself closer to him, her breasts against his chest, and her hips against his. Then she was below him. She felt his weight on top of her, and it felt so good. She couldn't help but compare him to Stefan. It was clear that he'd had more practice, he knew how to treat her, what she wanted. It was like he could read her mind.

She couldn't make herself regret her decision, as much as it was hurting Stefan, it was helping her, in some crazy messed up way. She could feel a dull ache starting between her legs, something she didn't get that much with Stefan. It was like he was afraid he would hurt her, but Damon wasn't, and she liked that. She loved that.

There was some kind of energy between them, some hot intoxicating energy that she couldn't explain. It felt so right, even though it was so wrong. It had always been there, hiding below the surface, simmering quietly away whilst they flirted and argued and denied the chemistry that was between them. It was bright and burning, like wildfire, they were unable to control it, but neither of them wanted to.

Lack of control led to hands sliding under clothing, Elena's hands mapped the planes of Damon's well sculpted chest, pushing his shirt up over his head and tossing it to the side, not caring where it landed.

Damon's hands lingered at the hem of her shirt as if asking for permission and Elena seized the moment to take control. She rolled them over, straddling his hips, smirking at him the way he did to her. She kissed him wetly, wiping his mouth with her fingers to rid him of the lipgloss that lingered there. Elena trailed her fingers down his chest, paused when she reached that tantalising line of hair that made her want to carry on.

She felt his hands on her thighs, running up to hold her hips, tracing circles with his thumbs. The dull ache awakened a little. Elena saw him move to sit up, and she pushed him back down.

Damon moaned just a little, "Wild Elena, when did this happen?" he asked, teasing her.

She moved back to pull her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground. She put her hands behind her back to unhook her bra, but she wasn't quick enough.

Damon turned them again, Elena on her back, in her black lace bra and jeans. She had been about to take it off, he knew, but he didn't care, that was his job.

Elena smirked a little, "When I no longer had to behave," she murmured, any human wouldn't have been able to hear her, but Damon wasn't human.

He matched her smirk and bent down to kiss her, but she moved her head, and he kissed her neck instead, wet kisses trailed over her jugular, and he resisted the urge to bite her, her blood smelled so sweet, and he grazed his fangs over her skin, noting the way her breath hitched. He smirked against her neck and pulled away, moving his head lower to nip at the skin above her breasts.

Elena made a vague sound of protest that she couldn't remember telling herself to make. It was almost like she wanted him to bite her, and at that moment, there was only one thing she wanted more.

Damon froze, but only for a second. She wanted him to bite her? "Was that a protest I heard?" he muttered against her neck. Elena tightened her grasp in his hair and moaned an agreement. He grazed his fangs against her neck again and he felt her hands tighten in his hair, pulling her closer to him. He experimentally bit a little, breaking her skin and she moaned beneath him.

Elena had wanted him to bite her, and he did, and it felt good, so good. She moaned her approval and pulling him closer still, moving her hips up towards his. The way he sucked at her skin, drinking her blood, it felt like nothing she had felt before, but it felt so good. It opened a whole new window of opportunity, she didn't want him to stop, but all too soon he was pulling his mouth away from her, kissing the wound.

She tried to pull his face back towards his neck, but he shook his head, using his strength to pull away from her. "Elena..." he murmured. He was rejecting her, in a way. He had already given her some of what she wanted, and he planned to give her so much more, but he didn't want to rush this. It was going to be his only time to have her the way he wanted her and he would be damned if he didn't make the most of it.

"I want you, Damon," he felt more than heard Elena whisper into his hair. He couldn't deny that he wanted her too, had wanted her for much longer than she had him, and he could prove it. He was hard, achingly so, he wanted to take her right then and there, but he had to wait, he wasn't going to rush. Self-discipline was his strong point. He could wait.

She only realised what she had said once it was out there, she couldn't take it back, she didn't want to take it back, it was the honest truth of how she felt right then, how she had felt for the past months where the chemistry, the sexual tension between them had been boiling at a low heat, undoubtedly there, but forbidden to touch.

The low, simmering heat had burst, exploded into a thousand fireworks and smothered them, making it impossible to back away. It was like all the lights and sounds of a carnival. So bright and vivid, making every sensation feel a thousand times more powerful, the silence around them so absolute that each noise made by the both of them was amplified a million times over. Every breath, every kiss, every moan, magnified.

Damon was the guy that every mother wishes their daughter wouldn't date, that force of unimaginable power that ripped through every single defence she had built against him. Gone in seconds, like he was an earthquake, number ten on the Richter scale, destroying everything she ever had against him.

He was one of those guys that weren't romantic or sappy, but full of so much passion and feral emotion that it was impossible not only to say no to them, but to not fall in love with them. That was the danger, Elena realised, the fact that although she loved Stefan, and loved the way he was such a gentlemen, she loved this more. This feeling of liberation, of danger, although she knew she was safe.

He was a sin, she was sure of it, but she didn't care, she couldn't have cared less if she was sent straight to hell, as long as she could enjoy his taking of her first.

Damon grinded his hips against hers slowly. Elena moaned audibly, she could feel his erection against her core, and the ache grew to more of a semi-vocal roar. It sent her out of any control. She couldn't feel anything but his hands on her skin, his mouth at her neck, and it was so good.

Elena pulled him towards her wildly, pressing her lips against his, tracing his lips with her tongue, asking for entrance to his mouth, there was no question as to the answer. Their tongues met in a fiery battle, twisting around each other.

She felt his hand move down between their bodies - she was surprised there was space, they were pressed so tightly against each other – and undo her jeans with sickening ease. She hummed to herself as his hand slipped inside both her jeans and her panties, finding that little bundle of nerves without any effort at all, it seemed.

He circled her sweet spot, slowly at first; making her twitch every time he hit a certain point. Her eyes were shut, enjoying the pure pleasure of it. "Damon," she moaned his name quietly, loud enough for him to hear, even if he had been human. She opened her eyes for a second to concentrate on his face, and saw his smirk take over. He was good at this, he had had practice.

His fingers were talented, he didn't even seem to be thinking about what he was doing, and that made it all the more perfect. It was unplanned, spontaneous passion and expertise, it surprised her, exceeded her expectations. As his fingers quickened, so did her breathing, to a broken, erratic pace that probably matched the way her heart beat. She couldn't keep still, her hips moved upwards in rhythm with his fingers, and her hands twisted in his hair, her nails clawed at his back, grabbing at his shoulders.

She could feel small shocks of pleasure radiating from where his fingers worked, shocks that she had never felt before. Her nights with Stefan had been slow and loving, this wasn't like that, this was driven from the need for each other, to finally stop denying themselves the thing that they had wanted for so long.

Elena moaned in protest as he moved away from her. Damon smirked to himself. He had known she wanted him, but he hadn't known how much, or in how many ways. Her jeans were already unbuttoned, and he wasted no time in pulling them from her hips. He ran his hands over her legs, up to her panties and hooked his fingers under them, pulling them down slowly, teasing her, running his hands over her smooth legs, enjoying the way she whimpered in anticipation.

Elena realised that it wasn't what he was doing to her that made her feel like this, it was Damon himself. How he was, who he was. He made her feel so out of control, wild and full of fire.

Damon trailed kisses up her legs, sucking gently at the skin on the inside of her thighs, smirking at the way her legs fell open under his ministrations. He moved his mouth closer to her core, and Elena tried to move her hips up, to meet his mouth eagerly. He ghosted his lips over her folds, trailing his tongue as lightly as he could, before meeting that bundle of nerves with the wet warmth of his mouth.

Elena moaned loudly and grabbed onto his hair, pulling his mouth closer to her. No one had done this to her before, and it was so good. She had never thought it would be this good. She felt fingers probing at her entrance and gasped as they moved inside her, "Damon," she half moaned, half gasped.

The fire she knew existed inside him had always meant something completely different to her, it had been dangerous, he had always been the brother that rushed into things, never thought about things, but maybe that was a good thing. If he had been like Stefan, this would be the same as she had already experienced, but it wasn't. He didn't seem to need to think about what he did, it was like he knew her body better than she did.

He was real, it didn't matter that he was technically dead, because he made her feel alive. He was like a firework, continually surprising her with his array of colours and sounds, and it excited her to no end.

Damon smiled against her. He had won, she was his, at least for this night, and he could tell that she wanted more, wanted so much more from him, but at the same time, she never wanted it to end. It was what he did to them, but it was more with Elena. It was like they matched. What was hidden deep inside her was ever present in himself, and it made this all the more perfect.

He gave her no excuse to stop feeling pleasure, with every stroke of his tongue, he plunged his fingers inside her, keeping up a speed that no human could compare to. Her hips moved continually, like she couldn't keep still, she didn't want to keep still. It was like she wasn't close enough to him, she wanted to feel him pressed against every inch of her body, but she didn't want him to stop either.

She could feel a familiar tingling in the base of her stomach, and it only became more pronounced the more his fingers and tongue moved over her sweet spots. "Oh, God, Damon," she moaned, and he pulled his mouth away from her, withdrawing his fingers and crawling over her. There were mere inches between them, but Elena pulled him down on top of her, wanting, no, needing to feel him against her.

The presence of his erection returned, jutting against her thigh, and she moaned quietly, pulling his head down to kiss him again. She felt herself on his lips, on his tongue, that salty but sweet taste of his impending victory over her. This was the only real thing in the world.

Damon seemed to have a permanent smirk on his face in relation to the power he held over her, there was nothing more perfect than the way she looked now, and he preserved the image, committing it to memory. He felt her hand slip between them, not dissimilar to the way his had done, and move to the waistband of his pants.

Elena unbuttoned his pants with surprising ease, shoving them down around his hips with clear impatience. Her heart beat ferociously, her breath coming in short, sharp pants, and it all increased tenfold when she touched him. Her skin sizzled with the excitement of it all, and she moved her hand up and down his erection. Slowly at first, watching him, watching the way his eyes fell closed without his instruction, and the way his breath came quicker.

It was true that she didn't exactly have the most experience when it came to anything of a sexual nature, but from the face of her... lover? She was doing pretty well. In his moment of weakness as she increased her pace, she switched their positions. Straddling him again, she could feel his hardness against her core, and she wanted nothing more than to have him, right then, but if he was going to make her wait then she would return the favour.

She shuffled downwards, feeling his erection brush against the small bundle of nerves at her core and she let out a small moan. She didn't ease the contact between their skin as she moved down, feeling him in the space between her breasts, and then on her tongue. She licked the tip of his manhood and felt him moan lowly, which only gave her ideas.

She took him in her mouth, feeling the salty, slightly acidic taste of him, of the substance that only proved to alert her of his painstakingly obvious arousal. She felt more than heard his head fall back against the bed, and smirked around him, humming in the back of her throat.

Damon couldn't help but moan her name; he couldn't help but wonder where she had learned to do this, cause him so much pleasure. If this was what Stefan got, then he was starting to feel a certain jealousy towards his brother.

Elena refused to gag as she took as much of him into her mouth as she possibly could, and she felt him move his hips towards her face, felt him bury his hands in her hair. She thought he would use that to his advantage, but instead he pulled her away from his erection and pulled her gently to his mouth, kissing her in a heated frenzy, refusing to pull away from her when she tried to sit up and moving with her.

She straddled his lap, her bra covered breasts pressing against his muscular chest, his arousal pressing into the base of her stomach, his arms around her, a hand at the small of her back and one at her neck, keeping her as close as she could be. Their tongues battled for dominance, but Damon won, taking Elena's surprise as an opportunity to unhook her bra, settling back for a moment to pull it from her, unveiling her full beauty to him.

He leaned forwards again, resuming their previous position, but this time, he could feel the skin of her breasts against him, feel her nipples harden as his chest moved as he continued his assault on her mouth.

Damon drew back, looking at her. She was beautiful, and she had wanted him. This wasn't a result of too much to drink or compulsion, this was real and perfect. Smirking to himself, he pushed her over, and she landed softly beside him, making a vague sound of protest as she fell.

He pulled his jeans and underwear off, letting them fall to the floor at the end of his bed before moving between her legs. She would think that this was it, she was about to get what she wanted, and that was exactly what he wanted her to think.

Elena's breath quickened when she felt him between her legs, his manhood rubbing against her bundle of over-alert nerves, she gasped when she felt his mouth on one breast, his hand on the other. He didn't squeeze, as others did so wrongly, he caressed the skin there, rubbing his thumb softly over the pink bud of her nipple, using his tongue to circle the other, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently, biting it softly and moving back to her mouth.

Elena moaned, his ministrations on her were slowly destroying her. If she died now, she would have been perfectly content. She felt his lips move to his neck again, and the fire that she had felt earlier, his power coursing through her veins as he had drank from her, echoed inside her. His fangs grazed against her jugular again, before kissing there, sucking the hollow below her ear. Damon licked the shell of her ear and sucked on the lobe and Elena moaned.

"I want you," she murmured into his hair, "Now."

Elena's words gave him a thrill, and he whispered into her ear, positioning himself at her entrance so that she could feel the tip of his manhood probing at her core. "Are you sure?" he asked, for the second time that night, and the only response he got was a moan of his name and hips moving to meet his, trying to force him inside her, deeper.

Damon happily obliged. He pushed himself inside her, taking his time, inflicting on her his own form of torture. She moaned loudly, and he felt a hand move to grab his butt, pulling him closer, driving him into her, deeper.

He set a pace, a steady pace, and her breathing increased, her head fell back, and moans fell from her lips like rain from a cloud. She clawed at his back, leaving marks that would quickly heal. She was so wet for him, every time he pushed into her he could feel her walls contracting around him, and he couldn't help but release a low, guttural moan. He increased the speed at which he thrust into her, meeting her need each time.

He held himself above her, the muscles in his arms rippling as he moved his hips, he watched her as he moved. Her head was thrown back, her eyes tightly shut, her face flushed with pleasure.

Damon tried to tell himself that he couldn't have cared less if she went back to Stefan after this, but if he believed that, then he would be lying to himself. He knew that he wouldn't be able to have her as his own, but there was a comforting thought in the fact that he would make sure she never forgot this. That every time Stefan touched her, she would think of this, and regret ever leaving his bed. She might even scream his name, as opposed to his brother's, and it would hurt Stefan.

If there was anything that Damon knew, it was his brother, and to be hurt that badly, he would lash out, it might even send Elena back into his, Damon's, bed. He looked forward to that day.

"Damon," Elena moaned, "Oh God, Damon."

She could feel her impending release in the lower part of her stomach, like a tingle, an electric shock, magnified every time she felt his pubic bone hit her sweet spot, every time her walls clenched around his manhood. This was better than anything she could imagine, anything she had ever experienced.

"Damon," her moans became louder, and her back arched with every thrust, she moved her hips in time with his, forcing him deeper and deeper into her, feeling that tingle bubbling inside of her, rising up and growing. It took over all of her senses.

All she could see was lights behind her eyelids, all she could hear was her own moans and Damon's breathing, all she could smell was the mingled scent of sweat and that unmistakeably Damon smell that was present every time he walked into a room. She could taste the passion, taste heat and need and satisfaction, and she could feel his muscles flexing beneath her fingers.

Most of all, she felt the tingling in the pit of her stomach explode into a thousand suns, her walls clench in a way that would have been painful if it wasn't for the pleasure inside herself. She felt her climax, a thousand million times more powerful than anything she had ever experienced with Stefan.

Damon carried on whilst she rode out her climax, he could feel her pleasure radiating from her, wave after wave of colour and heat and light. Then he felt himself tighten and with one final thrust, he spilled himself into her, the remnants of her climax mixing with the energy of his, and he leaned down, crashing his mouth to hers in the last throes of passion as they both calmed, their breathing returning to normal.

He moved to roll off of her, but Elena grabbed at him, digging her nails into his shoulders. "Damon," she murmured. "Elena," Damon responded, his voice indifferent. He almost seemed hurt, and maybe he was, a little. That was it; that was the last time she would ever ask him for anything remotely associated to that, and it hurt. He loved her, he had loved her for months, ever since he saw that she wasn't like Katherine at all.

She had her own view on things, her own opinion and she wasn't afraid to share it, she was passionate, and she cared. She really cared about the people she loved, and would go to any lengths to protect them. That was what he loved about her, why he loved her, and it hurt him knowing that he could never have her.

"Don't, Elena, you know how I feel about you," he said, looking right into those perfect brown eyes of hers.

Elena felt like she was being x-rayed, and she looked right back at him, noting the colour of his eyes. She had never looked before, but now she did, she noticed that they were the most incredible shade of blue, like aquamarine, clear and sparkling. She could detail the precise colour of Stefan's eyes, a mid-tone moss green, brown around the edges. They were calm and soothing. Damon's were like ice, but as she knew him now, they hid fire behind them.

"I'm not going to go back to Stefan, Damon," she muttered. She couldn't. There was too much history, too much pain, and she felt so much better, more liberated when she wasn't with him.

Damon closed his eyes, what was she saying? Was she saying that she was going to reject his brother in order to stay with him? He didn't know, but he wished she wouldn't play with him like this. "What are you suggesting?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully indifferent.

"I don't know, Damon," Elena whispered, almost as if she was scared, guilt was clear in her features, and Damon could smell it on her. "I don't want this to end," he voice was so quiet, she almost didn't make a sound at all.

"Stefan would put all of his best efforts into trying to stake me," warned Damon, his voice low and dark and dangerous, as if he was daring her to tell him that it didn't matter, because at least they would be together.

"I don't care."

Damon shook his head with a smile on his face and leaned in to claim her lips again.

**Author's Notes: **So I wrote this in two days, I was totally into it, which is different from when I'm usually writing. I was thinking it's a one shot, but if you guys want more, I'd be willing to write more. The song is currently No. 1 in the UK Charts, and I thought it fit the story, check it out. As always, please R&R, constructive criticism is always helpful, and I write back to everyone. Enjoy!


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